


A Deal with the Devil

by Pantone_palette



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Anal, Gay, Gay Sex, Latex, M/M, Mouth Kink, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantone_palette/pseuds/Pantone_palette
Summary: Picking up from S3 Ep 9, Mr. Robot confronts Tyrell Wellick in his own home. He sends Wellick in a rage- and is about to beat the fucking shit out of him- when the doorbell rings. They're briefly interrupted and Mr. Robot uses this to turn the table. He offers him a resolution- one that will feed both of their needs. And desires.
Relationships: Elliot Alderson & Tyrell Wellick, Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick, Mr. Robot & Tyrell Wellick, Mr. Robot/Tyrell Wellick
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	A Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Housekeeping:  
> This is a depiction of a toxic and unhealthy relationship. This is simply a fictional piece of explicit gay smut. Please practice safe 'n healthy sex with loving and trusting partners. In the meantime, stay kinky, stay gay, stay fabulous!
> 
> *Draws back the theatre curtain* 
> 
> And we begin!

“Do you have a fucking hard-on?” Mr. Robot’s eyes squinted as he eyed the bulge in Wellick’s pants. He was deeply amused- one moment the Swede was straddling him on the floor, furious, and about the beat the ever-living daylights on him- and the next, he was packing heat. 

They had been interrupted by the doorbell just before he was about to be beaten. Being the obnoxiously proper and off his rocker, Tyrell had stepped away to see who it was. Someone had the wrong address and asked for directions. It was short and sweet, but just enough to put a pause on his overflowing anger. Tyrell always took things personally, he known for being childishly erratic. He snapped his blue surgical gloves on his way back into the room. “Don’t deflect- I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to worm your way out of this you son of a bitch,” he flared, his veins popped in his pale face.

Mr. Robot had sat up and looked deeply amused- Wellick didn’t want to admit it, but this was erotic for him. Maybe the part about him being a psychopath brought this on. Or maybe it was something between the gloves and the pain.

They both were masters of manipulation and control. Something Wellick couldn’t control was the hard length in his pants. At least not hiding it. A well-tailored pant leg doesn’t leave much to the imagination, not when you’re as rail-thin and muscular as Wellick. 

“C’mon, we both know you’re fucking lying,” he smirked, looking amused that the Swede was so hotly defensive. There weren't many who could push his buttons like Mr. Robot and Elliot could- and MR was finding this delightful. A part of them both were.

“Haven’t you thought about us before? I know the way you look at me, I’d have to be a blind moron not to see it.” He paused, eyeing the man. “I’ve thought about it. Us,” He hissed.

Tyrell froze, his hardware firing in uncomputable directions. He hadn’t expected this, his anger and tension held in the air. His attention was captured. 

“You know, is this-” He gestured to the surgical gloves, “Is this how you like it? It’s pretty fucking kinky I might add. Is it this, or the choking that turns you on?” Robot pegged him as a sadist, it seemed fitting after everything that had happened with Sharon Knowles. 

Wellick knew this was Robot playing with him, and it had touched a cord. It was easier to contain himself when Elliot was here, but the two shared the same body that he was obsessively attracted to. This was his in. A glaring opportunity he must take advantage of.

“How about we make a deal, huh? How does that sound?”

Tyrell stood there tense, only needing a moment to take the bait. “What kind of deal?”

“How about I suck your cock, since you’re such a horny homo, and you don’t beat the ever-living shit out of me?” It seemed like a fair deal, one that was far more enjoyable for the both of them.

“Don’t insult me, how low do you think I am?” He spat.

Mr. Robot smirked for a moment, eyeing Tyrell and then his bulge. “I’m serious, I don’t make deals unless I plan to hold up my end of the bargain,” and that was enough for the Swede to flip.

“Fine, you want it so badly? Such me dry you cum fucker,” He quickly popped open his belt and pulled out his hard length. He grabbed at Elliot’s black hoodie and yanked him close, forcing him to his knees, his head hip height. It was such a delightful sight.  
The coy man licked the palm of his hand before stroking his length. It sent a shiver up Tyrell’s spine and held in a soft moan. Jesus, it felt good! He almost wanted to hide it from him, to not give him the full satisfaction of his doing.

Tyrell slipped a gloved hand into Robot’s hair, guiding his mouth closer to his length.

“Suck”, he commanded. He wanted to abstract every ounce of pleasure from him.

Robot slicked a tongue up him, creating a mix of frustration and pleasure to his delight. Wellick grabbed a fist full of his dark curls. He was being allowed to walk on thin ice, and he was taking Tyrell for a walk.

Wellick pulled Elliot’s chip up and connected eyes with him. He slipped a finger between his lips, finding they parted easily for him. Robot sucked on them gently, letting him explore and throat fuck his mouth as much as he pleased like a fine toy. Even allowed him to grind his balls against his cheek. He was intoxicated. 

He slipped the fingers from his mouth, leaning down to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. They both wanted it and stayed like that for some time. Tongues twisting.

After a long moment, Wellick pulled back and licked his lips. He wanted to do something else with Elliot’s mouth. He grabbed the man's chin and gave his face a light spank. Mr. Robot grunted.

“Open up~” He purred and plied a plastic thumb into his mouth, hooking it open like a freshly caught fish. He slid his length into his lips, his hand sliding to the back of his head, forcing him to choke on his cock for a long moment. A deep moan escaped his chest, his back arching as he rode a wave of pleasure. 

He began to lightly fuck Mr. Robot’s mouth, allowing him some time to adjust to his size before using his throat as he liked. He preferred to bury himself in the deep reaches of his throat, edging himself. 

Mr. Robot fought back a choke and peeled himself away and wiped off his sloppy face. Fucking hell did he need air. He was panting.

“You dug your own grave Alderson,” Wellick slipped off his tie and dropped it on the floor. He began to unbutton his shirt, “I’ve wanted this for some time.”

“Ya?” He rubbed his throat and coughed, trying to fully clear it. He could have figured out that much, the annoying fuck. He felt up the side of Wellick’s hip, feeling his strong muscles. “Why don’t you show me exactly what you’ve wanted?” He beamed with a Cheshire grin. 

“Fine, but we’re not going to stop until I finish,” again, a finger began to toy with Mr. Robot’s mouth. Such a fascination, a fixation. 

Robot bit, and locked eyes with ice, “I wasn’t planning to, you kinky fuck”. 

Tyrell thrust himself back into Robot’s mouth with new urgency. He opened his mouth wide, letting Tyrell fill his hot and heavy space as he face fucked him to near completion. There was a deep popping sound as he reached and thrust against the back of his throat. The whole thing sent the Swede’s head spinning, desperately wanting to climax in such a divine way. It was a sign of devotion and worship of his body. 

Finally, Tyrell came and spilled down into Mr. Robot’s throat. He moaned loudly, hips bucking as his body quivered. His partner quickly swallowed and accepted his seed. Wellick slowed and stilled after releasing himself into him. He was a sweaty hot mess with his head thick full of heaven. 

Slowly, he released himself from the other. 

Robot cleaned himself off using his shirt, out of breath and aching. They both took their time catching their breath. 

“Done already?” Robot quipped, “What can a guy do to get some attention around here?” Tyrell had been so preoccupied with his mouth that he hadn’t noticed Mr. Robot rubbing himself through his jeans. This wasn’t enough for him, not when he knew he truly had Tyrell. He could use him.  
“I know it’s not part of our arrangement…” He popped his pants button, “Would you be so obliged to…? Suck him and fuck him lovely? You know, if it wasn’t too much to ask. Man-to-man.

The Swede put out a hand and helped him up to his feet. It was time they took this in a different direction. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Oh? So you want me to say it?”

“Begging is a better word for it,” A touch of anger licked through his voice.

“You sadistic fuck, you’re ready getting off to this, huh?” His eyes looking down, watching as Tyrell picked up second steam. Impressive.

It was amusing and intoxicating how they could dance like this. It was manic. “You really wanna know? I want you to fuck me as hard as you can until there’s nothing left,” Until he was broken. 

This sent Tyrell over the edge- he flung himself at Mr. Robot and the two kissed, finding each other equally as needy and desperate as the other. It was a fight for control, a fight for power, a fight for pleasure for oneself and the other. Tongues slipped into open mouths, and the two became entangled. They had both waited for so long to feel each other's body, to know their skin and touch- they were burning with an unrivaled fury. 

Clothes fell and bodies became clean in their own skin, hips ground and connected with one another. Between the hot and heavy steam, smiles slipped between their lips as they felt an overflowing amount of joy welling from them. To think of the times this thought crossed their minds- it was too many to count.

Tyrell bit his gloves off, ripping the plastic off with his bare teeth. They were for war, not love. And he wanted to feel every inch of the man, every inch. 

He lifted Robot onto the kitchen island and their hot bodies connected with the cold marble.

“Jeg vil fortaere dig (I want to consume you)” he whispered in the man's ear. 

“Tyrell- I-” His voice took a different tone, suddenly sounding more vulnerable. Wide-eyed.

“It’s me,” he paused and stared into Tyrell’s crystal clear eyes. “Elliot,” Mastermind. 

He had been there the whole time, watching in the room with Mr. Robot. He wasn’t ready earlier, but this was now or never. He would get shit from Mr. Robot for taking control, but he had his turn. Now it was his. 

Tyrells face flushed, laughing with an interesting tone. “Of course it’s you,” His lips parted wickedly delighted. He had returned, “Bonsoir, Elliot. I’m happy you could join me,” he stroked his face a moment, studying it. He didn’t seem upset, instead flushed, pink with delightful embarrassment. Flustered, how lovely, “Shall we continue?”

Elliot yanked him towards him and their lips smashed together. “Why else would I join the party?” he teased. 

A warm hand slipped down to Elliot’s length, fondling and thoroughly feeling his carriage. What a wonderful package~

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” He breathed, speaking between his lips. He worked with such intoxicating skill, he gently moaned into his mouth. Stay right there~!

“Many, but I’ve never wanted someone so badly,” He pulled Elliot’s hips against his, having his legs wrap around his waist. He was ready. “You’re special Elliot,” he whispered in his ear. “Very special,” A finger circled his opening, a soft tease that would send a shiver up his spine. 

Elliot had begun to leak, weak for him. 

He circled his hole, giving it a soft press to feel its give. A soft moan escaped Elliot’s mouth. “May I enter you…?” Earlier, this was Robot. Now, this was Elliot. Both had their wits about them, their desires, tied up with Tyrell. His deal with him, and yet the other had appeared. Each of them made their own boundaries and choices. 

Roughness was still on the table, but his affections for the alters were different. Towards Elliot, he was more tender. Delicate to passionate. 

And Mr. Robot, he could hate fuck him.

Mr. Robot would hate fuck him.

“Mhm,” He nodded, his lips locked with the Swede’s. They would need lube.

Wellick briefly stepped away to look through a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of lubricant. He returned and slicked up his fingers to prep Elliot’s hole. He started off slow at first, listening to Elliots’ moans as he laid with his back against the stone. It was easier this way, and it allowed him a pleasant view of his lover. 

Soon, he found it quite easy to fit as much as three fingers inside of him. Slow and steady, he explored his depths, riding Elliot’s occasional bucking hips. Elliot wanted to ride this out as long as possible before he came. He was used to playing with himself in privacy and having such an attentive partner made it all the better.

Elliot grabbed Tyrell’s arm, sitting up. “I’m ready, I want you, inside of me,” he panted, “Now.”

The two kissed deeply and again they knotted. Tyrell traded out his hands for his length, pulling Elliot up and onto him and he slid deep inside of him. He buried himself in him, consuming his hole and unleashing himself. Elliot moaned in pleasure, stifled by the other one’s mouth. They were each other's demons, each other's savior. This was meant to be. 

Elliot kissed Tyrell's neck, leaving a trail of deep hickies. He licked from the base of his neck and up, making the Swede shiver. He would give him payback.

Wellick picked him up and into his arms, shifting Elliot’s weight down towards Tyrell’s hips. It gave him a better angle to pound him thoroughly. Elliot cried out, hooking his arms around the other’s neck and giving in. Giving his body over to Wellick as he exploited this opportunity to give him exactly what he wanted- the force that would send him over the edge. “Tyrell- I’m-” Elliot spilled out, covering his own stomach and that of Tyrell’s. The Swede couldn’t bare it himself, being consumed by the sight of Elliot he released inside of him. His hips jerked, forcing Elliot to come down in hard, slow thrust, as spent himself. It sent Elliot’s head in a tizzy, moaning through caught breaths. It was sinfully delightful. 

The two stayed there for a moment, being held in the arms of the other, savoring this moment. It came and went in a whirlwind, and neither wanted to let this go. 

“How do you feel?” Wellick panted and planted a peck on Elliot’s soft cheek. 

“At ease,” With him and those crystal eyes.


End file.
